Mr Lonely
by HetaWriter - HetaReader
Summary: However, before Germany could apologize and think of a proper and liable excuse to leave the Dane and compensate for seeing him in the morning to check if he was feeling better from the hard drinking he partook, Denmark chose to cut in. "I don't wanna be alone…not again…" Pairing: GerDen (open interpretation, however), rated T for themes.


_Hello all, HetaWriter/HetaReader with a new story: a request for xXBlueSariaXx (on FF) since she was the closest to a little guessing game I made for **A Tail For Two Legs**. I apologize again for tardiness, and honestly, I've never written a fic with Germany as the leading role, so this greatly tested my skill as a writer and put me out of my comfort zone. ^_^'_

**_Requested Couple: _**_GerDen  
**Condition/s: **Free choice.  
**Situation/s: **Free choice.  
_

_Rather open-minded and gave me a great deal of possibilities, but sadly, this was the only one I could think of since supposedly Denmark and Germany have great beer consumptions (and it was confirmed by Himaruya-sama that Germany could handle his beer while Denmark couldn't). _

_There _are _a number of mentions of more touchy subjects (i.e. WWII), however, nothing is explicitly said or mentioned. From what I've learned about Denmark and Germany, they seem to get along rather well - being neighbours for one thing, and apparently Germany didn't go so...hard out on Denmark during that one incident that some people can't seem to hold down. So, yes, this story is far more serious in shade than most of my other works, and I hope I was able to capture the scenario while at the same time invoke the requested couple._

_Anyway, shall we go on? _

* * *

"Come on! You gonna drink that, West?" a white-haired, red-eyed man grinned widely, eyes fixated on the large glass filled with beer.

Germany arched an eyebrow at his older brother, "_Ja_, I will."

"Aww…come on, West!" whined the albino man as he feebly shook at the muscular man's shoulder. "Let _me_ drink it! You said you didn't want to corrupt your liver or some crap like that!"

"That is if you continuously drink beer," responded the stern blonde firmly. "I only drink on special occasions whereas you drink _all _the time."

"Come on, West-!" however, seeing that his younger brother had a serious spark that began to burn firmly, the albino rolled his eyes as he pouted, "Fine! Be that way; be like that to your awesome bro!"

Germany simply gave a snort in response as he half-heartedly shrugged one of his shoulders. His storm blue eyes fixated onto the golden-brown liquid that was sloshing around in his glass. Looking up at hearing his older brother's strange-sounding cackle, he saw that right now, most of the other nations were starting to get engaged in a bit of karaoke.

"Dudes! Let's do this!" America shouted enthusiastically, his eyes shining from behind his glasses. He grabbed one of the mikes and placed in the digits, eventually the song popped up on screen, and Germany's ears almost fell off at hearing the Western man's voice screech mercilessly against his sobbing eardrums. He grit his teeth as he inwardly cringed at the flat notes.

During all that, he could see that Seychelles was dancing around happily – France was sneaking a few moves onto Spain after he failed to make some on her. The country of passion was cringing at the American's flat and tone-deaf singing, as well as leaning into the Netherlands and trying to snuggle into his striped scarf. The Dutchman looked less than impressed at having the Spaniard invading his personal space, and continuously shoved him away from him as he attempted to get back into a rather deep and meaningful conversation with thin air.

At least, it _looked _like the Netherlands was talking to air.

Once Germany caught sight of a bear, he almost gave a double take. Blinking and squinting his eyes for a better look, he was shocked to see that there was a blonde man who looked remarkably like America chatting back to the Dutchman. However, upon closer inspection, Germany saw that the blonde talking to the Netherlands had violet eyes, a gentler and softer demeanour, as well as a strange curl that dangled over his eyes.

'_Wait…I know him!'_ Germany narrowed his eyes as he pondered. _'He was Knut's owner…Canada was it?'_

"Kesesese! Dance, boy! Dance!"

Germany looked up again, now in time to see his big brother, Prussia, dancing around wildly with an air guitar whereas Italy was trying hard to bring Japan at the centre to dance, the poor Asian nation flustered and trying to hide himself out of view, causing Turkey, who he was conversing with, to chuckle merrily and try to gently put down Italy. Seychelles meanwhile was still prancing around elegantly, twirling around, and had actually gone up to the couch where the Nordic Five were seated. She was then tugging on Iceland's arm.

The youngest Nordic's face was as red as a beetroot, and his kin didn't make things any easier. Finland and Sweden were encouraging the silver-haired Nordic to accept the offer and dance with her while his own brother had the ghost of a smirk etched onto his face.

"Only if you call me big brother."

"What the heck?! Never!"

'_Hold on_,_' _Germany scowled as he counted the number of Nordics in his head. _'That's only four…where is Denmark?'_

The spiky-headed blonde was known to be _very _close to his kinsfolk; he affectionately referred them as his brothers aloud, and seemed to like spending time with them at every waking minute.

However, that saying so, he seemed to exasperate his said fellow Nordics plenty of times; he was rather wild and upbeat for one thing, and he had a bit of an ego about him, as well. Not as bad as Prussia, but it was still _far _above the norm. He was also very rash and rather thick-headed at times – very childish, too.

'_Hmph, but at least he _can _fight,' _Germany thought to himself as he took a swig of his beer; the taste very familiar and welcoming to him. _'He actually _loves _fighting.'_

It was also a known fact that Denmark liked having wrestling matches and battles against some of his fellow nations; however, many of them nowadays seemed to be more out of good fun and getting a kick out of a great battle rather than malice. Germany recalled that the spiky-headed Dane would challenge his fellow Nordic, Sweden, to many battles plenty of times.

However, they would all account for the number of losses that Demark had on his toll.

'_Have to admire that spark of his…'_ the German man thought to himself, though his cheeks were slightly dusted a light red as his fond eyes stared deeply into the golden-brown liquid. _'And he _can _actually hold himself up in a fight, too.'_

"Come on, Ice!" Seychelles whined, snapping Germany out of his thoughts. "Dance with me!"

"N-no…!" Iceland stammered, his ears now the same colour as his cheeks. "I-I'm not that much of a dancer! Really…!"

"Aw, come on, Iceland!" urged Finland, flashing his younger colleague a warm, encouraging beam. "Just one dance!"

"N-no!" cried Iceland. "I can't dance! I told you already!"

"Neither can I," grumbled Sweden, his stare stern and solemn as always. "Yet my wife and I do it at times."

This time it was Finland who turned red. The Santa nation rubbed his head, a mortified expression on his face as he exclaimed, "I am _not _your wife!"

"I don't care if you can't dance," said Seychelles. "I can teach you!"

"No thanks," Iceland grumbled, obviously embarrassed, warranting snickers from all around the room. "Sorry, Sey, but I'll pass…"

"Come on, Icy! What's wrong with dancing with the little missy and sucking at it?"

The four of the five Nordics and Seychelles looked up to see the missing piece to Northern Europe.

However, Germany and everyone else who settled their eyes onto the Dane, could obviously see that he was already uproariously drunk off his rocker.

Denmark's baby blues, that used to spark with a burning and bright eager flame, were now red and bloodshot – glazed over by the effects of the alcohol. His pale blonde, spiky locks that used to perk up with his own being, were drooping slightly just like his own sluggish form. He was walking in a very lopsided manner, and even standing looked to be a difficult feat for him, as he kept swaying around; clearly out of balance. He also had a rather loopy and ditzy smile on his face; much wackier in tone than his usually cheeky grins.

It was a known fact to the Nordics and the Germanics that despite loving beer, Denmark wasn't able to withstand a large number of shots. Germany remembered when the spiky-headed blonde and his own rough older brother were engaged in a drinking game.

"Oh, Denmark! There you are!" exclaimed Finland, looking both relieved and worried at the same time. "We were worried about you!"

"Not particularly," grumbled Norway. "He can take care of himself. But, where _were_ you, anyway?"

"Jus' walking around…you know," the Dane's speech pattern was slow and slurred as he swayed over a bit. "Just taking a look around America's house – did you know he has a _whale _in his swimming pool?"

"A whale?" Sweden arched an eyebrow, however it didn't negate the intensity on his face one bit. "How much have you drunk?"

"Don't be a brute, Swede!" the Dane waggled a finger as he had an annoyed pout stretched on his worn face. "I ain't lying; there _is _a whale out there in America's pool! Go and look it up if you don't believe me!"

"No, thank you," the bespectacled Swedish man murmured, looking really uninterested.

"Well, come on, Icy! Why don't you wanna dance with this pretty, little lady?" the Dane's grin spread back onto his face as he motioned at Seychelles who simply blinked back at him. "She got curves on all the right places! You're lucky someone's _actually _showing interest in you!"

"Denmark…you're _really _drunk," Finland said, now concerned. "I think you should sit down—"

"No, I don't wanna!" whined Denmark childishly as he waved what appeared to be a bottle filled with vodka. "I don't need to, either! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Don't be an idiot," Norway said sternly, his serious face point blank, but his dull, blue eyes were cold flames. "Just sit down before you make an even bigger fool of yourself."

"Come on, Norge!" the Dane said with a pout, jutting out his bottom lip. "Why you so mean today? I'm perfectly fine! See? Look! I'm even dancing around to America's crappy singing!"

However, no sooner did he make a few jigs, when he suddenly collapsed in a heap to the floor with an almighty crash.

A lot of nations were staring in shock down at the passed out Dane.

However, the rest of the Nordic Five didn't seem so miffed; it seemed like a normal occurrence for them.

"I'm not taking him home this time," Norway said coldly.

"Neither am I," agreed Sweden with a final nod.

Finland bit his lip, "I _would_, but I still have plenty of planning for this year's run…"

Iceland looked highly reluctant as well.

However, that was when a voice spoke up before the Nordics could settle that Finland be the one to take the Dane home this time, "I can bring him home if you'd like."

When the four northern European countries looked around to see who spoke, this time, they _were _surprised as to who the speaker was.

"Really, Mr Germany?" Finland asked, dark violet eyes glowing in surprise. "You'd do that for us?"

"Well…" Germany rubbed the back of his head, now wondering what compelled him to speak up in the first place. However, he was able to squash down the burning eruption that licked at his face and cleared his throat as he was able to properly respond with a straight posture, "Why not? He lives just next door to me – we _are _neighbours, after all. I am used to seeing him drunk, anyway; _mein bruder _is like that, too. It will be no problem at all."

"Thank you, Germany," the Finnish man said as he bowed his head. "_Really_."

"_Nein_, it is no problem at all," the German man waved his hand dismissively as he already began to loop the Dane's arm around his shoulder and heave him up. "I was just about to go home, anyway…"

"You're going home already?" Seychelles looked disappointed. "How come?"

Germany simply gave a half-hearted shrug on one shoulder, "Wild, meaningless and random parties as this…they are just not my thing."

"Just be careful with him," said Norway quietly. "He tends to be…_really _emotional once he's drunk…"

Germany nodded, "_Ja_. _Auf wiedersehen_."

"What about your brother?" questioned Sweden inquiringly.

Before Germany could respond, he was able to make eye contact with his said older brother.

The albino man was actually watching the scene closely and, just by seeing the passed out Dane on the floor, was able to safely assume that Denmark had gotten wasted and his little brother West was just playing the role of the responsible friend and reliable neighbour.

However, seeing that tinge of red that had taken place on his younger brother's face, the Prussian simply blinked his crimson eyes, gave a smirk, and flashed a thumbs-up in the German's direction, signifying that he was going to be okay without him for tonight.

Germany blinked, but gave a nod of acknowledgement as he answered the Swede, "_Mein bruder _is going to be fine." Seeing Prussia point at France and Spain, the blonde man added, "He is going to stay with his friends for tonight."

"I see," Sweden gave a nod. "Good luck, and take care."

The blonde German gave a simple wave of his hand as he began heaving the drunken Dane outside of the great American mansion when he could hear his older brother grab the mike and start singing a great, blaring rock tune. Before he could leave, however, he was met by some old friends.

"_Ve~! _Where are you going, Germany?" Italy asked curiously as he bounced up to him.

"Why are you carrying Denmark-san?" questioned Japan. "Has he become intoxicated again?"

Germany simply sighed as he nodded at the Asian nation, "_Ja_, the poor fellow is drunk off of his rear end. Not very much a surprise. And Italy, I'm going home; I have had enough of this party, really…"

"But, why?" whined Italy. "Can't you stay for a bit? _Ve~ _it'll give you the chance to hook up with some pretty girls!"

The blonde, blue-eyed nation heaved an exasperated sigh, and it took all of his self-control not to smack at his own head. "That is what _you_ like to do," the German said firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me; I have to get Denmark home. _Auf wiedersehen_, _meine freunde_." And after exchanging some more goodbyes, Germany was _finally _able to leave out of that humid, heated and crowded place.

Germany exhaled a heavy sigh as he shook his head once he called a cab and gently fixed Denmark inside before boarding himself.

The journey back to Denmark's home was a long one, but the German, oddly enough, didn't seem to mind at all; it was a rather peaceful night that night. Things were running far more smoothly than he thought; there was minimum traffic, there was actually a plane that was available and heading down to Berlin at an appropriate time so Germany could easily use his car to drop Denmark home – his house wasn't far from his own, after all. And Germany was pleasantly surprised to see that the meter of his fuel gauge was still filled up – though from the little note that was tagged on the dashboard, Germany could see why, and he was slightly amused by it (though it didn't show on his serious face).

"_**Kesesese! Thought your car could use some touch from the awesome me! Filled it up, no need to thank me. 8D Your Awesome older brother."**_

'_Well, fancy that…'_

Coming to Denmark's house, the blonde German heaved him inside, and searched a few times in the house for his room – the Dane's house was rather large, and the windows gave a beautiful view of the outer world.

Plus, Germany had never come into Denmark's home like this before – given the liberty to look around. The blonde however placated the excuse to do so because he didn't know where Denmark's room was; it wasn't like he wanted to come inside the Dane's house and steal his prized possessions or something among those lines.

Looking outside at the moment, Germany could see that it was a rather lovely nice that night; the moon was glowing softly – its shining rays were dappling the marble floors and seemingly shimmered in the dark blue sky.

'_Ah! Here must be his room.'_

The room itself had a lot of red – the bed itself had red sheets and a scarlet blanket with a white cross proudly glaring right at him. Looking at the wall, the German could see that there were an array of what appeared to be ancient Norse weaponry that were displayed out for the eyes to lay upon.

They were all polished with great and particular care, and simply remained on the wall, waiting for the chance to be used again.

At the corner, next to the bed, Germany could see Denmark's most precious possession there.

His axe.

By the way it leaned against the ball, just situated there, it appeared as if it was awaiting the return of its own master and wielder. Germany simply stared at the large weapon and couldn't help but admire the amount of strength it would take to carry such a weapon around with ease like how Denmark would do during the times he caught sight of him just patrolling around the borders that separated their homes.

Germany also remembered that whenever the spiky-headed blonde caught sight of him, he would beam brightly and widely, as well as wave enthusiastically at him.

Of course, not being so used to such friendly contact, the German would find that his cheekbones were dusted red, and he would look slightly taken aback before regaining his composure and simply giving a nod back to acknowledge the Dane's presence.

It was enough to satisfy the Dane.

Denmark gave a groan as Germany was able to discard the blankets a bit and place him onto the bed. Next, in an oddly gentle fashion, the German man was carefully tucking the Dane in, propping his pillow with his working hands, and placing the blanket back over Denmark's figure.

During all this time, Denmark himself was snuggling back against the comfort of his bed.

And also, during this time, Germany's eyes couldn't help but settle onto the Dane's face, sinking in every detail carefully.

Denmark had higher and more prominent cheek bones, much like Germany himself, however whereas Germany's face was a bit thinner, the Dane's was fuller, giving a rather child-like and more youthful feel. His nose was curved and slightly pointed, and there was an indent located in one of the Nordic nation's cheek, that would crease into dimples when he gave that normal, cheerful smile and laugh merrily.

It interested Germany to see someone like Denmark so close to him.

The Dane was known for being upbeat and wild; having that youthful vigour that lasted him a number of centuries. His days of being a Viking and plundering around territories, his reign over his fellow Nordics at one point, and even the events that had happened in more modern history.

And throughout all of that, it seemed that Denmark didn't hold any grudge whatsoever.

Germany wondered how someone so strong and filled with such power could easily forgive – Denmark was quick to forgive him during the time when Germany's _"crazy boss"_ as the German himself would say, had taken reign over his country and caused havoc.

Honestly, it took every other nation some time before Germany was placed in their trust again.

But Denmark…

'_Why do you forgive me so easily?' _the German wondered as he narrowed his eyes, his face starting to go aflame. The blonde knew he was blushing, as he was gazing down at the knocked out Dane and his heart seemed to swell bitterly at past tensions and events that replayed avidly throughout his still troubled mind, _'Everyone else around me took a _really _long time to accept that those horrible things were beyond my control. Some even still have bitter feelings towards me today. Yet you…you always welcome me whenever I come to your beaches…'_

"_Tyskland…_?"

Germany instantly snapped out of his dazed thoughts as he saw the Dane's eyes flutter open, still bloodshot and a bit watery. "_Dänemark_?" he heaved a sigh as he rubbed his head. "Coming to, I see…"

Denmark gave a cough as he rubbed at his head, feeling the effects of the alcohol already seep in and hammer mercilessly against his temples, "Ugh…_ja_…" looking up from his lying position, the Dane arched both eyebrows to realize that somehow he was back home, "Eh?" he blinked at stared at the Germanic nation, "How'd I end up home?"

"I brought you," the German responded briskly, keeping his face stern and serious despite how rapid his heart was starting to thump at the moment. "You passed out in the middle of America's floor."

"Really?" Denmark inquired, looking tired and perplexed at the same time. "Don't remember nothing…"

"You were drunk," reasoned Germany. "Beer tends to take that effect on people. But the big question is; are you alright _now_?"

Denmark blinked at having such intense storm blue fixated on him; he couldn't help but stare right back into them.

Germany always intrigued him; he remembered seeing him before as a child that was responsible and tended to follow his older brother around, aspiring to be remembered as a nation who upheld the rules and morality that were needed to build a more peaceful world.

However, things were taken out of a spin just from one of his own.

Denmark knew that humans were beings that could easily warp and twist into demented creatures; the spiky-headed Dane knew that nations were subjected to such figures, and even sometimes put at their mercy if they did not obey orders – he was older, and knew how the world ticked around him.

There was a reason why they were called _'bosses' _after all.

Which was why he tried to smile and simply carry on forth.

He knew that he himself had pieces of history that wasn't clean – nobody had a clean shave.

"Are you alright?" Germany questioned, rather unsettled with the Dane's lack of words – usually the spiky-headed blonde would push in a mouthful or two, however, Germany reasoned that the alcohol was what probably made Denmark _very_ out of character.

"_Ja_, don't worry 'bout it," Denmark responded, able to stretch a big beam on his tired face as he shut his eyes.

"Very well, then," Germany gave a nod as he checked his silver watch. "I'll shall take my leave then-"

"_**Don't."**_

That single word; that single syllable, it caused Germany to stop from moving and fixate his gaze down at the wasted Dane again. He blinked, looking both confused and rather flustered. He leaned down slightly, unsure if what he heard was correct, "I…I beg your pardon?"

"_**Don't leave."**_

The Dane slowly rotated his head to face the surprised German, his face melted down to a more saddened, melancholic expression; his eyes, though still glazed and glassy, were chipping away: revealing a hidden pain that he concealed within himself. His voice softly desperate and quietly pleading.

Just by how worn and defeated the usually bright Dane was at that very moment, Germany couldn't help but want to do just that; stay. However, that just wasn't him – he wasn't known for being social, nor did he revel in being amongst the company of his fellow nations. He was never good at close contact, either.

It was a reason why Germany felt he was much closer to Japan than Italy.

However, before Germany could apologize and think of a proper and liable excuse to leave the Dane and compensate for seeing him in the morning to check if he was feeling better from the hard drinking he partook, Denmark chose to cut in.

"_**I don't wanna be alone…not again…"**_

He could remember when he was left alone – Sweden and Finland had taken their leave from his home, Sweden even throwing a scary fit of rage as he proclaimed that he was sick of him and his overbearing ways. Eventually, and Norway and his little brother had also taken their leave from him, too.

And Denmark was left alone.

Even to this present day, the Dane had that burning, underlying suspicion that his kin were simply putting up with him and didn't really enjoy being around him. Finland was far too polite and kind to ever openly say it to his face, Sweden followed Finland, Iceland was a bit of a loner and tender to hang around the younger nations, Norway meanwhile loved to spend his time with England and Romania nowadays.

And of course, that left him with nobody again.

That was, until he saw Germany take a walk on the borderlands; his dogs eagerly following behind their master.

Germany knew that feeling of loneliness; oh, yes – he knew it very well.

There was a time where he was left out in the harsh, biting cold while everyone else seemed to revel amongst one another.

However, he hardened himself a lot, hiding behind seriousness and excessive training. Naturally, the German was able to forget about his loneliness and accept it.

That was, until a certain day, an Italian and a Japanese man came into his life.

But now that he thought about it…Germany could see that he was never _truly _alone.

First off, he had his brother Prussia, though despite being separated for a while, they knew that the other at least was alive and took great comfort at knowing that they cared deeply for one another still. Also, Germany had Austria, who seemed to not mind him around him. Italy and Japan were also added to that mix, so technically, Germany was actually never alone despite his thoughts before.

But Denmark…

Staring down at the Dane; Germany could feel a tug pull at his heartstrings, which was one of his greatest weaknesses – he actually was rather soft despite how tough, serious and stern he was. The German didn't like revelling in seeing another in pain despite how brutal some of his battles wore on him, and honestly the sight of blood still made him inwardly uncomfortable since it belonged to someone.

"_**It hurt when they left…I hate that feeling…I don't like being alone again…"**_

"_**Ja, I admit, neither do I."**_

Denmark blinked as the German squeezed his eyes shut before entering his bed; coming under the blankets.

"Fine…" the German grumbled as he settled himself in the sheets. "Fine, but only for tonight!" honestly, Germany felt mixed emotions stemming from this: one, it was rather awkward to him for two men to share a bed – he never even wanted to do that when Italy was able to sneak under his covers (he yelled at him and always tended to kick him out of his room); two, he actually didn't seem to mind at the same time; and three, he couldn't help but feel rather…embarrassed and a bit shy at feeling the Dane's warmth touch him and that he was _actually _doing this.

Denmark's face immediately morphed from the confused look to a much happier one; his shining and watery baby blues had a little twinkle located from within them, and his face looked much more at ease.

The smile he also gave; it was nothing at all like the cheeky ones he normally handed out.

This one was soft, sincere and grateful.

And honestly, Germany couldn't help but flush at the fact that that particular smile was aimed directly at him.

"_Tak_, _Tyskland_," the Dane said as he came closer, feeling content and at home with someone beside him.

Germany felt his face redden, however, much to his own surprise, he didn't dare to push the Dane off of him. Instead, he simply settled himself more in the bed, trying to make himself comfortable; which actually proved to be an easy feat, considering that the bed was both warm and had the right array of softness as well as hardness to support the back.

And with that warmth right beside him…

"G'night, _Tyskland_," the Dane leaned over, and, much to the shock of Germany, planted a tender kiss to his temple before lying right on him and snuggling close to him. "_Jeg elsker dig_…" and with that, he immediately started snoozing away the alcohol's bitter pangs.

Germany cleared his throat carefully as he felt his face almost implode from the amount of heat it now contained. He wasn't sure if Denmark was still under the effects of the alcohol, but it mattered not for now – things could hopefully get more straightened out tomorrow in the morning when he was sobered.

That saying so, Germany leaned over and softly placed a peck on the Dane's own temple, which made the said Dane smile during his slumber.

"_Gern geschehen_, _Dänemark_," he responded, the corners of his lips tugging upward to a ghost of a smile as he shut his eyes and wrapped one arm protectively around the comforted Dane. "_Gute nacht_; _ich liebe dich auch._"

**_'There is no need to feel so lonely anymore.'_**

The once cold and hardened night immediately softened and crumbled away at the soothing, loving words that were uttered.

* * *

_I feel that I may be missing something, but I think it might just be being overly critical in my abilities as a writer. TTnTT but, anyway, I tried hard with the couple, and honestly...it's added to my huge list of crack/uncommon pairings now. (How many times must I be converted? XD)._

_The story was actually also inspired while I was listening to Akon's **"Mr Lonely", **I know it has absolutely _nothing _to do with the story, but it made me think of Denmark for some reason, so I just put it in as a special mention anyway. (And Akon's one of the only few "mainstream" musicians who I wholly acknowledge, the other being NeYo.)_

_Anyway, thoughts and opinions? I hope you have a pleasant day._

_Sincerely,  
HetaWriter/HetaReader_


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